Gene Simmons, left, Paul Stanley and Tommy Thayer brought their megawatt production to the Heavy MTL festival at Montreal's Parc Jean-Drapeau in 2011. Co-founders Simmons and Stanley's devotion to their own corporation has been a constant for 46 years. Bryanna Bradley / Montreal Gazette files

Dimebag Darrell, the whiz-bang guitar player in Texas metal band Pantera who was gunned down while performing onstage, was buried in a Kiss Kasket. Oh, and Dimebag’s brother, Pantera drummer Vinnie Paul? Also buried in a Kasket.

That is an actual merch thing, launched in 2001 by Kiss: coffins. They’re covered with lurid (are there any other kind?) photos and logos, and even come with Gene Simmons’s killer sales pitch: “I love livin’, but this makes the alternative look pretty damn good.”

The initial press photo op featured Simmons — who does not drink — leaning over a coffin filled with iced Budweisers.

I mean, once you’ve gone there, is there really anywhere you won’t go? To paraphrase someone, never pick a fight with an ugly band — they’ve got nothing to lose. So as the brand exercise known as Kiss threatens to wrap it all up with an extended three-year farewell-again-we-mean-it-this-time End of the Road tour (hitting the Bell Centre on Tuesday, March 19), it is entirely fitting that it all begins with a flame war.

A few weeks back, the inimitable Nikki Sixx, formerly bassist/conceptual deviant of Mötley Crüe, tossed an IED of a stinkbomb into the entire enterprise, and his timing was as exquisite as no Crüe vocal ever was. In a since-deleted Instagram post, Sixx posted a photo from the 2014-15 Crüe farewell tour with band members flying over the crowd in cherry-pickers as a zillion fireworks went kablooey. He captioned it: “If ya wanna see an exact reenactment of this just go to the #LosAngeles Forum tonight,” alluding to Kiss’s performance that evening.

And the hard-rock Mean Girls shade war was on! If you follow, the Kiss farewell tour rips off the staging of the Crüe farewell tour when “our body wasn’t even cold,” Sixx wrote. “Might not matter to Kiss fans but it does to Crüe fans.” Sixx would go on to extensively blast Kiss for allegedly using backing tracks while performing. At least we now know why they’re charging a LOL-inducing $1,055.75 for some front-row seats: Gene might need a more expensive legal team to sue Nikki.

But Sixx may have missed the point. His argument was based on the primacy of integrity and originality. Doesn’t matter if those terms are somewhat debased in a discussion of arena hard rock — those were his terms. And in the moral Mordor that is Kiss’s career, those notions dissolve like confetti in lava.

For 46 (!) years, from 49 albums (studio, live, compilation, box sets) through a zillion tours, the weird Phantom movie, the make-up make-off, the comebacks, the celebrations and denunciations, the fun Tom Snyder interview, they have been a fixture on western consciousness. Why? Not complicated. All you had to do was remove the meaning.

“We were the audience that got onstage, and became the band we never saw, and that changed the ground rules.” – Paul Stanley

That’s not to say Kiss wasn’t a brilliant idea. Kiss was a rock ’n’ roll inevitability, much as David Lee Roth would later be. Before Roth brought vaudeville and carny, Kiss brought corporate entertainment. Take the New York Dolls’ legitimately louche cross-dressing, marry it in a devil’s wedding to Alice Cooper’s genuinely Guignol theatrics, rinse them of any deeper sense or meaning or connection to the street. Voilà!

No idea if this remains true today, but back then, the band entered your consciousness at an age when your brain was expanding so rapidly it could countenance and host the greatness of both Dylan’s Bringing It All Back Home and Kiss’s Alive! Before, you know, you develop a moral code.

I’ve seen Kiss over a dozen times, from the 14-year-old in the fourth row at the Forum to explosions at Heavy MTL. Saw them with Ace, Vinnie Vincent, Mark St. John, Bruce Kulick and Tommy Thayer. Felt bad for Thayer, a real gentleman, because he was thrown into a ridiculous situation, having to play the Ace role. Almost felt bad for Simmons and Stanley as they dealt with the lunacy of overplaying scenery-chewer Vincent. So, take out street-born self-destruction, artistic aspiration or merit, and what do you have? Brand and bombs and merch, and those can be replicated every night, in every town, exactly the same way. Are the employees being obstreperous? Replace them.

Joyously, I’ve had a number of opportunities to interview Gene. On two occasions, the arguing began two minutes in. “Critics are completely useless because …,” he said by way of introduction. He deserves credit for a fearless, caustic, hilarious willingness — nay, insistence — on trashing whatever sacred cows come to mind. Asked about “the meaning” of art, he responded: “No. Tell me the meaning of a football game.” When I tried, he blasted Bruce Springsteen and U2 for “posturing,” which was pretty funny.

However, he deserves no credit whatsoever for his unwillingness and inability to empathize with or even comprehend the pain, sadness or misfortune of anyone with more than 20 bucks in their pocket. Kurt Cobain committed suicide just before one of our chats, and he took bloodless, derisive satisfaction in refusing to acknowledge any human vulnerability, slagging him as rich, white, blond and famous, a star who had money and chicks and no right to kill himself — as if “right” had anything to do with it. As if it had been a manipulation, a cry for help. As if he hadn’t, in fact, killed himself.

Nikki Sixx agrees with me.

“The last thing that me and Gene got into is, he said that if people are depressed, they should kill themselves,” he told a Virginia radio station after Simmons mocked the death of Prince. “I think that Gene should call it a day, and that we should look at this beautiful catalogue of music that Prince has given us. And if you wanna compare Prince to Kiss … there’s no comparison. Prince has been an amazing artist. He’s kept his standard high over the years and was never just about money and ego — it was about music.”

Ace Frehley was the best musician in Kiss by a long shot, as they knew he would be from the moment he rolled in from the Bronx to audition wearing one red and one orange Converse. The fact that Stanley and Simmons saw this as impossibly bizarre and out-there says everything about how straight they were. Ace also designed the logo, which made them them, and the whole enterprise brandable from the get-go. Drummer Peter Criss wrote their biggest hit, Beth, which neither Simmons nor Stanley even wanted to record. Getting rid of those two undeniable wasters but actual rock ’n’ rollers was inevitable, because they would inevitably go off-script.

You haven’t lived until you’ve seen the 1979 Tom Snyder Tomorrow interview with the band, during which a visibly, um, entertained Frehley cracks wise, plays with Snyder’s teddy bear and unleashes an unforgettable Bronx cackle while Simmons glowers and someone else mutters, “Put the bear down, Ace.”

Google another classic bit where Frehley refuses to play along with introducing new drummer Eric Carr on Aussie TV — blowing off his lines, he points at the camera and says, “Look! It’s rock ’n’ roll!” That wasn’t going to fly, for the image had to be maintained at all times. Because for all the yakkin’ about rock and musical influences and descendants, even Simmons — especially Simmons — knew that was their one true asset.

My younger brother, who is a surgically discerning metalhead (start with Slayer, work your way down — waaaay down), once referred to Kiss as “Nickelback with makeup.” But at the end of the day, our opinions matter not a jot. Kiss simply is. The band, the concept, the legacy simply are. Even Simmons and Stanley knew that enshrinement in Jann Wenner’s strip-malled Rock and Roll Hall of Fame couldn’t give, or erase, the cachet they’d earned the hard, corporate way.

And fair is fair: Simmons and Stanley are avid philanthropists. Simmons, the son of a Holocaust survivor, grew up dirt-poor in Israel (there was no toilet), and now speaks five languages. He’s learning Mandarin. The list of fully credible musicians who openly admire Kiss is long. They achieved a lower version of the transcendent fame of their idols. I mean, your grandmother knows Kiss. Stanley’s dad is 98 and he knows Kiss. They’ve been covered by every cool band you’ve ever heard of, racked up 100 million worldwide album sales and umpteen hits collections, a star on Hollywood Boulevard …

And back to that Tomorrow interview. There are a dozen great Ace lines with Tom Snyder, but the best — and most germane to our purposes — comes when Stanley tries to get things back on the right platitudinal track and humblebrag about the fans, man. And Frehley simply will not wear the company uniform.

Stanley: “I mean, when you realize that a lot of people at the show have been waiting three or four months to come see us and this is like the big night for them; and when you see all these people screaming and crying and all that …”

Frehley: “Crying because they spent all that money!” (explosive cackling)

Let the tears of all types flow this Bell Centre night. Let Strutter and Parasite be unspooled. Until the next farewell. Hilariously, if you Google “Kiss farewell tour” you get this Wikipedia entry: “The Kiss Farewell Tour was a concert tour performed … .” That was in 2000.

When you buy a Coke, the inventor doesn’t pour it out for you. When you buy a Mustang, Henry Ford doesn’t drive it out of the showroom. And when you buy a Kiss … Whether it’s doppelgängers, imposters, impressionists, multiple touring outfits in makeup or magical holograms, this won’t be the last you see of Kiss. And I don’t mean the Aug. 16 return at the Bell Centre — there will be no end. Not when there are four-figure tickets to be sold. This Kasket is forever.

AT A GLANCE

Kiss’s End of the Road tour hits the Bell Centre Tuesday, March 19 at 7:30 p.m. Tickets cost $107.75 to $1,055.75 via evenko.ca. The band returns to the Bell Centre on Friday, Aug. 16.

Related

RETIREMENT BECKONS, UNTIL IT DOESN’T

Does any act really mean it when announcing a retirement from the stage? Usually not if they and their accountants can help it.

Led Zeppelin

The band was first entombed by the death of John Bonham in 1980, but reunited for a disastrous Live Aid set in Philly in 1985, with Phil Collins and Tony Thompson falling all over the drums, and in 2007 in tribute to Atlantic Records founder Ahmet Ertegun at the O2 Arena in London (which was actually solid).

Odds of unretirement tour: Robert Plant offers a flat zilch. What’s David Coverdale up to?

Ozzy Osbourne

Let’s see: retirement tour announced in 1992. Tours since then: I lost count at 20. Has performed more regularly since retiring. Actually named the latest jaunt No More Tours II.

Odds of remaining unretired: He’ll tour when he’s dead. I mean, he may already be.

Eagles

Disbanded with rancour in 1980. How ugly? “Only three more songs until I kick your ass, pal,” Glenn Frey told Don Felder onstage during one of their last shows. Reunited in 1994 for a massive payday. Have continued touring, even after Frey’s death in 2016.

Odds of remaining unretired: How much cash ya got on ya?

Rush

Rush retired so Canadianly in 2018 that there are still people who don’t know it happened. Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson are likely to record together again.

Odds of unretirement tour: Tricky. Neil Peart has chronic tendinitis. There may be one-offs or short jaunts, but no globe-straddlers. Which is sad, given they can still play and obviously love one another.

The Kinks

Ray and Dave Davies are brothers, which is why they hate one another and the band ended in 1996 after the 317th fraternal fistfight.

Odds of unretirement tour: Actually, perhaps 50 per cent. I mean, they are brothers.

Oasis

Speaking of brothers, Noel and Liam Gallagher have run a cottage industry of slagging one another since the former stormed out of the band in 2009. Last year, Liam tweeted: “I forgive you now let’s get the BIG O back together and stop f—ing about the drinks are on me.”

Odds of unretirement tour: U.K. bookies have them at 3-1 for 2020.

Kate Bush

First saw her on Saturday Night Live in 1978 — which is about the only place anybody ever saw her, because she toured once, in Europe, for a month in the spring of 1979. Unretired for 22 shows at London’s Hammersmith Apollo in 2014.

Odds of unretirement tour: Pretty close to zero, as she reportedly will not fly.

Mötley Crüe

Showing Gene Simmons’s own flair for branding, they actually signed a contract precluding any further touring after the final New Year’s Eve 2015 bombast-fest. They reunited to record four songs last year for this year’s biopic The Dirt.

Odds of unretirement tour: Vince Neil can’t sing anymore. He never could. They have a signed contract precluding it. So, 100 per cent.